Pins and Needles (DEAD, FOR NOW)
by Conan-Edelstein
Summary: Footfalls pounded on the hardwood floor, uneven and hard. A teenager with chin-length light blond hair ran around a corner in the maze of a house, his violet eyes huge with terror. Behind him, a shadow followed in hot pursuit, threatening to overtake him.
1. Run

Footfalls pounded on the hardwood floor, uneven and hard. A teenager with chin-length light blond hair ran around a corner in the maze of a house, his violet eyes huge with terror. He stumbled a bit on the next turn and ran up a steep flight of stairs, his knees shaking from the effort. When he reached the top he looked around wildly, then took a left and ran down a slanted hallway.

Behind him a shadow followed in hot pursuit, threatening to overtake him.

The teenager choked out a sob in terror and ran faster, his chest heaving. He turned a corner and ran down a long hallway lined with mirrors, multiple images of his own scared reflection running alongside him, all wearing an identical expression of terror.

The hall came to a sudden, abrupt end, and the teenager screeched to a halt, crying out in dismay. He looked around wildly, trying to find an exit. In his brother's favorite movies, there was _always_ an exit when the hero was trapped in a situation like this.

But this wasn't a movie. This was _real_.

Scared and trapped, the teenager fell to his knees, shaking violently.

The shadow loomed up behind him, blotting out the dim light that came from the mirrors.

"You said you would play with me sir." A child's voice spoke up behind him, sending chills down his back. He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears.

"You _promised_."

The teen let out a soft, gasping sob, hugging his arms around himself. Tears collected on the lenses of his glasses, obscuring his vision.

"Please..." He choked out, hugging himself tighter. "I-I can't... Please... Just let me... go..."

"Play with me first!" The child's voice cracked slightly, momentarily becoming deeper.

"Please sir... If you don't... Then _he'll_ get angry..." It pleaded.

The teenager cried quietly, shaking his head over and over. _No... No... No..._ "I can't..."

The voice's pleads fell silent for a long time.

"Very well..." The shadow loomed closer, and the teenager felt a freezing pocket of air close around him, sucking the warmth out of his limbs, turning his breath into mist and freezing the tears on his glasses and face. More, fresh tears streamed down his cheeks, burning his skin. An icy prickle of terror crawled up his spine, and he heard a terrible, ragged breathing behind him, each breath sounding like a death rattle. Icy fingers tipped with long gnarled talon-like fingernails gripped his upper arms, piercing through the red fabric of his hoodie and freezing his skin on contact.

"A-alright." He finally sobbed, unable to bear it anymore. His entire body was shaking violently, from terror and the cold. "I... I'll play with you..."

Silence stretched on for a long time.

A creepy, high pitched giggle sounded behind him, and the cold and the fingers retreated away from him. "Will you really?"

The teenager nodded, his tears dripping onto the worn hardwood floor beneath him.

"Horray!" The teen felt a small, icy hand grab his and pull him roughly to his feet with unnatural strength, the sudden movement knocking his glasses off. The 'child' dragged him down the mirror hall, deeper into the house. Behind them, the dark shadow followed, watching closely.

Left behind in the mirror room, lay the teenager's glasses, still speckled with his tears.


	2. Missing

_**12:17 AM**_

...Ring...  
>...Ring...<br>...Ring...

_click_

"You have reached Emily, Alfred and Matthew. We're sorry we missed your call..."

Alfred F. Jones snapped his cell phone closed, ending the call. He'd been trying to call home to check on his twin brother Matthew three times already, and he hadn't answered. The American sighed and ran a hand through his short, dark blond hair. His brother was probably sleeping. Or maybe he was sleeping over at a friend's house, like he himself was now...

He sighed again and jumped as he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He blinked and looked over, and found himself staring into the emerald eyes of a shorter teen with messy blond hair, thick charcoal-black eyebrows and a slight frown creasing his forehead.

"You okay git?" He had an English accent. "You look a bit off."

Alfred smirked slightly, then sighed again.

"I've been trying to call Mattie... He isn't picking up."

The British teen cocked an eyebrow.

"Wasn't he going to stay over at Gil's for the weekend?"

Alfred sucked in a breath then choked on it.

"Over at _who's_!"

The teen rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell Alfred, you know _who_. Gilbert! You know, the albino guy who's in my band that plays guitar and does backup vocals?"

"I know who he is Artie! I want to know why the _hell_ Mattie's spending a night over at that... That... At his house!"

"You really do hate him, don't you?" Arthur muttered, furrowing his eyebrows.

"So what if I do! The guy's an ass! Now tell me why Mattie's over at his house!"

Arthur sighed irritably and ran a hand through his hair.

"Damn it... So you're saying you haven't a bloody clue what's going on in Matthew's love life."

"Ye-" Alfred froze. "WAIT WHAT!" He grabbed the Brit by the shoulders and started shaking him.

"_TELL ME_ You're joking, Artie! Mattie's not-"

"Get your hands off me you twat!" Arthur snapped, cutting the American off. "And why would I joke about this! It's true, He's dating Gil. Both Gil and Mattie have told me themselves, actually." He glanced away.

"Actually that part's a lie... I sort of walked in on them snogging a week ago after band practice.. So yeah"

Alfred looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"I-I-Is that true!" He stuttered, still gripping Arthur's shoulders.

"Yes, it is." Arthur said flatly.

Alfred let go of the Brit and staggered back, his eyes huge with dismay.

"Why didn't he _tell_ me!"

"Probably because he knew you'd over-react about it." Arthur said bluntly.

Alfred winced and looked away.

Seeing the look on his friend's face, Arthur reached out and grasped his shoulder, giving it a re-assuring squeeze.

"Look, I've known Gil for almost six years now. Sure he can act like a twat sometimes, but he's not that bad of a guy, trust me."

Alfred didn't look reassured.

Arthur sighed "I'll call him okay?" the American nodded.

The Brit smiled, then jumped as his cell phone started ringing loudly, blaring music.

_"In a world beyond controlling, are you going to deny the savior, in front of your eyes? Stare into the Night..."_

"Speak of the devil..." Arthur let go of Alfred's shoulder and fumbled with getting his phone out, the ringtone still blaring loudly from it's small speakers.

_"Power beyond containing, are you going to remain a slave for the rest of your life? Give in to the Night!"_

Arthur managed to get his phone out of his pocket, flipped it open and started at the caller ID. It read 'GILBERT' in bold lettering.

He smirked and pressed talk, then speakerphone. "Gil, I was just about to call ya!"

"You... You were? Huh..." Arthur's smile quickly faded. Gilbert sounded... Different that usual.

"What's up?"

Gilbert let out a shaky sigh into the speaker, which was followed by a rustling noise, like the albino had ran a hand through his hair.

"Mattie hasn't shown up.. He was supposed to _hours_ ago..."

Alfred felt as if a huge chasm was yawning open beneath him, sucking him into the earth.

"H-Have you tried his cell!" he rasped, his eyes huge. He started to shake violently.

"J-ja... I've called it nonstop since nine o'clock... It keeps going to voicemail..." The Prussian's voice cracked and he fell silent.

Arthur forced himself to stay calm, for Gilbert's and Alfred's sakes. "Have you tried his cell recently?"

"Ja... Just before I called you, actually... It also went straight to his voicemail."

Arthur bit his lip and cursed. "I'll call you back, okay? Keep trying his cell."

"Alright."

The Brit pressed 'end', punched in another number, then pressed talk. He held his phone to his ear and crossed his fingers, praying that the person would answer.

Six rings later the line picked up.

"J... a?" A thickly accented voice yawned on the other line.

"Magnus!" Arthur snapped, already losing his patience with the Dane. "Get your Danish ass awake and get your Dad out awake! NOW!"

The Dane on the other line made a confused grumbling noise. "Why? It's past midnight, dude..."

"Matthew's missing."

Silence stretched on for a long time.

"Mattie's... _Missing_!" Magnus rasped, sounding fully awake now.

"Yes! Now wake your dad up and have him arrange a search party!" Magnus's father was the police chief, and in charge of search and rescue operations.

"Alright hang on..." Arthur heard the phone being set down, and heard Magnus run down the hallway.

He sighed then blinked in surprise when he noticed that Alfred had vanished.

He walked out of the hall into the living room, and saw the American sitting on the couch, his glasses sitting on the coffee table and his face buried in his hands. When Arthur walked into the room, he raised his head, his eyes red and swollen.

"Who... Did you call?" He asked quietly, rubbing his eyes.

"Magnus..." He sighed as he heard the Dane shout at his father in Danish through the phone. "He's getting his dad to round up a team of people to look for Matthew..."

Alfred nodded quietly, his baby blue eyes dull and lifeless.

Arthur felt a zing of pain shoot through his heart at the sight of the normally upbeat and joyful American, who was now devoid of all hope.

"Yo, Artie? Dad's on his way to the station now.. He should have an amber alert out, and team together complete with dogs together in about half an hour." Magnus's voice sounded from his cell phone's speaker.

Arthur was silent for a while before answering. "Alright... Thanks Magnus." He snapped his phone closed and stuck it back into his pocket, then headed up to Alfred, and sat beside him on the couch. The American didn't react or acknowledge the Brit, he just stared straight ahead, his expression blank.

Feeling tiny needles of pain stab into his heart, Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder.

"The search party is being pulled together, and an Amber alert has been issued." He said quietly. "They should be ready in about a half an hour."

Suddenly Alfred was on his feet, his eyes filling with tears. "What good'll that do! He'll be DEAD by that time!"

Arthur sprang to his feet too, his emerald eyes blazing. "You don't know that!" he snapped.

"It's true though." Alfred choked out, staring at the floor, tears still welling up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "H-he's probably d-dead now... Floating in some r-river or.." his voice cracked and he broke down into sobs.

Arthur bit his lip then stepped forward and hugged Alfred, holding the shivering American close.

He heard Alfred's breath hitch sharply, then felt him hug awkwardly back, eventually hugging the Brit tighter, sobbing into his shoulder. Arthur let him cry it out, gently rubbing the taller teen's back.

Several minutes later, they stepped out of the embrace, Alfred sniffing loudly and rubbing his eyes like a little kid who fell while playing.

Arthur reached up and softly brushed the American's tears away. "It's okay... We'll find him."

Alfred nodded and blinked hard, sniffing loudly.

Arthur looked away, feeling slightly ashamed for giving Alfred false hope.

What were the chances that Matthew was still alive? Pretty low.

He sighed softly, and hoped that he was.


	3. the Spirit

Cold. That's all Matthew knew when he woke. A terrible, horrible _cold_.

It seeped into his limbs, sucking the warmth and life out of them, leaving them as heavy as lead. It crept into his chest, freezing his lungs and slowly making its way to his heart.

_Am I dying?_ He asked himself.

It felt like he was.

Matthew lay still, his breathing labored and painful due to the cold in his chest. He forced himself to concentrate on what he could feel and smell around him to get his mind off of the intense cold.

He could feel the bumpy, uncomfortable surface of the mattress he was lying on, and felt a broken spring digging into his lower back. He could feel the rough surface of it under his frozen fingertips, and could feel a small hole in the cover under his right hand. All around him, like a smog, hung a musty, damp, closed-up smell, and he could hear water dripping nearby. Where was he? In a basement? In an attic? In an storage unit? Was he underground? He felt a twinge of panic.

_Stop it._ He told himself firmly. _You're only scaring yourself._

He then forced his eyelids open, then glanced around him while flexing his fingers and toes, gradually working the warmth back into them.

His first guess had been right. Sort of. He was in what looked like an unfinished cellar, with bare dirt floors, crudely carved walls and beams crisscrossing the ceiling. The beams made him nervous, because they were badly buckled and rotted in some parts.

How did he get here?

He slowly sat up, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them. He blinked, realizing that his vision was much blurrier than usual. He reached up and felt his face, and realized that his glasses were missing. Where were they?

Then everything from earlier flew back at him in a rush. Running down the hall of mirrors. The shadow. The child who wanted to play. Matthew hugged his knees to his chest tightly and buried his face into his knees, shaking violently. All the fear he had felt before welled up inside him, creeping into his heart like a poison, killing all good feelings and replacing them with a cold terror.

He continued to sit there, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt a dull ache start in his chest and slowly travel up into his throat, forming a hard lump there that refused to go away. He took a deep, shaky breath and choked out a sob. Matthew hugged himself tightly, wishing wistfully for the feel of Gilbert's arms around him, and hearing him tell him that everything would be alright. A few tears escaped his eyes, and he cried softly, holding himself tightly.

"Wh-why are you crying?" A voice suddenly asked softly to his right.

Matthew jumped, let go of his knees and looked around him wildly, terrified out of his wits.

"Wh-who's there?" He cried out, feeling himself shaking violently as he scanned the room, looking for the voice's owner.

There was no one there, and it was dead silent.

"H-hello?" He called out softly, blinking. Had he imagined the voice?

Then he heard something shuffle to his left.

Matthew jumped and whirled around, breathing heavily. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears, and could feel his heart thudding painfully in his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribcage.

He heard the shuffling again, closer to him, and the Canadian felt an icy chill crawl down his spine. There was absolutely _nothing_ in the room that could make that noise.

"Who's there?" He whispered, shaking violently. "Sh-show yourself.."

The shuffling stopped, and a faint image of a teenager with shoulder-length brown hair and gentle green eyes faded into view.

"I'm sorry I scared you..." His voice was faint and slightly echoed, like he was speaking over a long distance.

Matthew's eyes widened and he shifted away from the teenager. "Wh-who are you?"

The spirit held his hands up, palms facing Matthew, and he shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you... I promise." He smiled. "My name is Toris."

The Canadian stopped shifting away and regarded the teen, blinking.

"T... Toris?"

He nodded, smiling sadly. "What's your name?"

"M-Matthew..." the Canadian managed to return Toris's smile.

Suddenly, Toris whirled around, his eyes huge.

"I-I'm sorry... I have to go..." His image dissipated and vanished.

"Wh-what! No! Don't-" Matthew gasped, but Toris was already gone. He then froze, feeling a horrifyingly familiar cold crawling up his spine.

"No..." He started to shake uncontrollably.

"Come on sir." Said the child's voice from behind him. "It's time to play again!"


	4. Searching

Emil Stielesson woke up and lifted his head slightly, blinking blearily. Late afternoon sunlight was streaming through his window, casting a soft yellow glow and long shadows over everything in his second-floor bedroom. He was wearing the clothes he had been wearing yesterday, a plain blue golf tee and jeans. His face was resting on the keyboard of a laptop, and as he unstuck his face from the keys, he saw that the screen was black and that its little green light had switched off.

He uttered a curse under his breath, then got up and began searching for his laptop's power cord. He found it on the third shelf of his bookcase, next to a picture of a volcano in mid-eruption. Picking it up, he went back over to his desk and plugged his Laptop into the wall. An orange light came on next to the power button, signifying that it was charging.

Emil yawned, then yelped as something heavy and fairly decent-sized clubbed him in the back of the head. Staggering slightly and holding his now-throbbing head, he turned to see what had attacked him.

Sitting on the headboard of his bed was a black bird-a Puffin-with white chest feathers and an orange yellow and black colored beak. A reddish pink bow was tied around its neck, which stood out against its white chest feathers. It narrowed its beady eyes at Emil, looking clearly unimpressed.

"It's about frickin' time you got up, ya lazy punk! It's almost four in the afternoon!" it said with a rough voice, which didn't suit its rather cute appearance in the least.

Emil frowned slightly. "… Four… in the afternoon? Are you sure Mr. Puffin?"

Mr. Puffin huffed and ruffled his feathers, then spread his wings and flew across the room and landed on Emil's shoulder.

"Hell yes I'm sure!" He pecked Emil's ear.

The Icelandic winced and held his ear. "That was uncalled for…" He sighed and headed out of his room and downstairs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

It was, indeed, almost four in the afternoon; Emil found out as he shuffled into the kitchen, as it said it on the clock on the wall above the stove. He sighed and headed up to the pantry, and opened it, reaching for a package of licorice.

"Having a lazy day, are we?" Asked a quiet voice behind him.

Emil started and turned around, and saw his elder brother Lukas leaning against the counter, a neutral expression on his face.

Sighing, Emil turned and grabbed the package, then closed the pantry door with his elbow. Leaning against it, he opened the pack and fished out a particularly long piece of candy, then started nibbling on it.

"No I'm not." He replied, his words slightly muffled by the licorice. "I was up all night working on my English essay… I must've fallen asleep around four." He finished the candy, and then reached into the bag to claim another.

Lukas didn't look impressed. "You left that to the last minute? That's rather foolish of you..."

"Let me rephrase that sentence. I was _editing _the essay." Emil muttered. "I finished it two days ago… I was just finishing the editing."

"Sure you were." Lukas said quietly, the slightest hint of sarcasm noticeable in his soft voice. Turning around on his heel, he headed towards the fridge, his gray-socked feet not making a sound on the tile floor.

Emil shot his brother's turned back a look, then resumed eating his licorice. The two brothers were often stuck home alone together for months on end as their parents traveled on business trips and such. Because of this, the two had to practically raise themselves since the start of High School. Now that Emil was in Grade eleven and Lukas was in Grade twelve, they had gotten used to the absence of their parent's presence.

Despite being brothers, the two shared very few physical features. Lukas took after their mother, with his light blonde hair, dull blue eyes and slim stature. Emil took after neither of their parents, with his platinum blonde hair and violet eyes, and slightly smaller size.

But they shared one trait: the two both had a sort of quiet, calm air that surrounded them; making everyone around either feel peaceful and relaxed, or nervous and slightly creeped out. It depended on the person, of course.

Mr. Puffin, who had flown upstairs for a while, flew into the kitchen and landed on Emil's head, bending over to stare into the Icelandic's eyes upside down.

"Yer computer's acting dodgy, punk." He squawked, his beady black eyes narrowed. "Makin' weird noises and such."

Emil raised his eyebrows and started heading upstairs. Halfway up he heard the phone ring, and heard his brother answer it. Once he reached his room, he became aware of a funny high-pitched bleeping noise that was coming from his laptop, and noticed that the screen was flickering every now and then, displaying colored bars.

Frowning, he walked up to it and jiggled the power cord, wondering if it had somehow come loose. After a few minutes of fiddling around with it, the beeping stopped, and the screen went black. Sighing, Emil straightened up and headed out of his room, feeling slightly satisfied with his work.

When he headed downstairs, he walked back into the kitchen, and saw Lukas standing with his back facing him, the wireless phone in his hand. His brother was staring at it, a frown creasing his brow.

"Who called?" Emil asked, a little curious.

The Norwegian was silent for a while before he answered. "Magnus… He called to ask us if we'd seen Matthew."

Emil blinked. "… Who?"

"Alfred's twin brother." Lukas sighed and hung the phone up on the hook. "You know… That quiet boy, with light blond hair and glasses? I think he's in your Chemistry class." He stared pointedly at Emil.

Emil blinked, trying to remember.

"… Oh yeah, Matthew. He's so quiet, nobody usually notices him…"

Lukas nodded curtly. "Yes… Well, apparently he's gone missing."

"Really? When?"

"Last night. Alfred was in hysterics, apparently… He went down to the station, and is camping out there… He hasn't eaten or slept since they put out the Amber Alert."

"Wow…" Emil murmured. "Have they had any luck so far?"

"None whatsoever." Lukas said, staring at the phone. "It's like he's just…" He made a motion with his hands, waving them around, the fingers splayed out wide. "… Poofed."

Emil raised his eyebrows at his brother's actions. "… Poofed? Really?"

Lukas didn't seem to notice Emil's reaction to his term of describing Matthew's sudden disappearance. Or, if he did, he coolly ignored it. "Anyway… Magnus has asked us to come down to the station."

"Why? We don't even know Matthew." Emil said, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"That's what I said…" He started making his way to the door. "But he was pretty insistent on it so…" He shrugged. "You know how cross Magnus gets when he doesn't get his way."

Emil sighed, following his brother out into the hall. Mr. Puffin was perching on his head, preening his feathers smugly.

Grabbing their jackets, they pulled their shoes on and exited the house, Emil locking the door behind him.

Lukas walked ahead, his hands in his light teal windbreaker's pockets. His light blond hair looked bleak and paler in the light shed from the overcast sky, his Nordic cross hair clip standing out against it starkly.

Emil glanced back at their house; a two-story town home located in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. After a few moments, he turned and jogged after his brother, catching up in a few moments, Mr. Puffin tottering precariously on his head, squawking protests as he was nearly thrown from his perch from his master's sudden movement.

As they rounded the corner to the bus stop, Emil had the sudden, strange feeling that he and his brother weren't going to see their home for a long, long time.


	5. Trapped

Matthew fell back against the wall hard, and slowly slid to the ground, trembling from exhaustion. The wall opposite him slid closed with a soft thumping noise, and an eerie silence descended over the room like a wool blanket.

The Canadian bowed his head, his shoulders shaking from silent sobs. He still had no idea how long he had been kept in this place, or why, even. All he knew is that there was no way of getting out, and that he would probably end up dying here.

_No_. He told himself firmly, squeezing his hands into fists. _You are NOT going to die here. You're going to get out._

_How?_ A voice asked him, in the negative side of his mind. _How are you going to get out?_

Matthew sighed shakily. _I don't know. But I'll find a way._ He told it.

He looked up shakily after a while, wiping his tears away with his hoodie sleeve. He then grabbed hold of the rusted metal headboard of the bed he'd been lying on earlier, and shakily pulled himself to his feet, and looked about.

If he was going to escape, he thought as he shakily started walking around the outside of the room, running his left hand along the uneven earthen walls; he was going to have to investigate, to see if there was any possible way of getting out.

He eventually reached the wall that had slid closed earlier and shut him inside, and he put both hands against it and pushed, with all his strength. It didn't budge, and when he inspected it more closely, he discovered that there weren't even any cracks or lines in the dirt wall that would suggest it was a door of any sort.

It was as if the door had just… Vanished.

Matthew sank to his knees, utter despair filling him. It was futile… There was no way out of the room he was trapped inside.

He was trapped. Imprisoned. Locked away. Buried alive…

He threw his head back and let out a scream, his voice filled with all the despair and terror he felt in his heart.

"_LET ME OUT_!" He clawed at the dirt wall, sobbing uncontrollably, his hands shaking violently. "LET ME GO! PLEASE! _PLEASE_!" He screamed until his voice broke, his fingers scrabbling at the wall…

But nothing answered. Matthew collapsed to his side and hugged himself, sobbing loudly. He stayed that way, in a shivering, softly sniffling mess, until his exhaustion overtook his fear, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.


	6. Memories

Lukas pushed the door to the police station open, and stepped inside, Emil following close behind. The office was surprisingly empty, with only a few officers walking around. It was silent, except for the occasional phone ringing.

"Where's all the officers Magnus said his father called?" Lukas looked around him, his dull blue eyes narrowed slightly. "He said that all the officers in the area had been called."

"Do you think he was exaggerating?" Emil asked his brother.

"… No." Lukas shook his head. "I could hear them all running around, shouting and talking when Magnus called me… It sounded like a small army was gathered here."

"Huh." Emil looked around. "Maybe… They're in a conference room?"

"Let's find out." Lukas started heading down the hall, his strides oddly brisk. Emil practically had to break out into a trot to catch up with his brother.

"Shouldn't we ask someone or something?" Lukas didn't answer.

Emil sighed irritably, and stopped running after his brother. "Scuse' me." he asked an officer who was walking in the opposite direction. "Where is everyone?"

The Officer stopped and stared blankly at Emil. "Whadaya mean, kid? It's Thanksgiving weekend. Almost everyone's at home with his or her families. Except me of course." He chuckled. "I'm here to hold down the fort!"

"Yes, we are aware of the upcoming holiday." Lukas popped up beside Emil, scaring both him and the officer.

"But there is a teenager missing currently. Wouldn't everyone be here to… help out with the investigation?" He raised his hands; the index fingers pointed, and started moving them together and apart, as if imitating the motion of 'grouping together'.

"What? A teenager's missing?" the Officer raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure about that? I haven't heard anything bout' a teenager being missing."

Emil felt a slight chill crawl down his back. "… Wh-what?"

"Look, kids." The Officer looked at Emil and Lukas both, a stern expression on his face. "Unless you're here to report someone missing or give information to us about an on-going case, then you don't really have any real reason to be here."

"Oi! Luukie! Emmie!"

Lukas let out an irritated 'unf' as a tall, wild-haired teenager hugged him from behind, and started rubbing his face against his. He was blond; his hair gelled into a sort of spike-wave style. He had an almost boyish face, laughing blue eyes, and a wide, contagious grin. He was wearing a dark red long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, and sneakers.

"Ah! Magnus!" the Officer grinned and laughed as Lukas started squirming around in Magnus's arms, poking the Dane's cheek multiple times with his fingertip, an irritated expression on his face. "You know these two?"

"Yep!" Magnus grinned widely and avoided another poke from Lukas. "They came here to see me. Don't go arresting em' Morris! They don't mean any harm."

"Alright." The Officer chuckled. "I'll leave you to them." He turned, and then walked off, disappearing around a corner.

The moment the Officer disappeared, Magnus's grin vanished. "Glad you guys came…" He grabbed Lukas's hand and started dragging him down the hall. Emil blinked, staring after his brother and the Dane. Then, for the second time that morning, something rammed into the back of his head, making him stumble forward several paces.

"Ow!" He turned around, holding his head, and blinked as Mr. Puffin landed on his shoulder. "What're you doing here?"

"Ya left me alone, punk!" Mr. Puffin ruffled up his feathers and gave Emil a beady-eyed glare. "I got bored, so I flew out the attic window and followed ya here."

"How'd you get in the Station…?"

"I flew in the front door, punk! How else?"

"Ey, Emmie." Magnus poked his head out of a room three doors down from him, a frown on his face. "Come on…"

"Sorry." Emil shot an irritated glare at Mr. Puffin (which got him a peck on the ear), then walked over to Magnus, and into the room. The Dane closed the door behind the Icelandic, and then stepped around him and into the center of the room.

It was in a state of slight disarray: there were papers all over the circular conference table, which was in the dead center of the small room. There was a red laptop set up on one side, surrounded by papers, its power cable snaking under the table to the plug in the floor. There were seven office chairs set up there, four of them occupied.

Alfred and Arthur were sitting in two of them. Alfred had his head resting on Arthur's shoulder, his baby-blue eyes half closed and red from crying. The Brit had his arm around the American's shoulders, his eyes closed.

An albino teenager with silver hair and crimson eyes was sitting in another, wearing a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, a gray scarf and jacket tossed over the back of his chair. He had his elbows resting against the table, and his head in his hands. He wore a blank expression on his pale face, and he was staring down at something sitting in the space in between his arms: a cell phone. His shoulders were stiff with tension, as if awaiting an important call: which he was.

In the fourth and final chair was an Asian teenager with black hair, dark brown eyes and a small, slim stature. He was wearing a simple white shirt and black jeans, and was typing away furiously at a Mac, his expression concentrated.

As the door clicked shut, everyone looked up, except for the Asian teenager, who was still typing. Alfred sprang to his feet, as did Arthur and the Albino.

"Did they…" Alfred's expression fell as he saw Emil and Lukas. "O-oh…" He sat down heavily and stared at the floor blankly. Arthur sighed softly and sat down again, putting his arm around Alfred's shoulders once more. The Albino regarded them blankly for several moments before sitting down again, returning to his original position like nothing had happened.

Emil headed over to one of the unoccupied chairs and sat down heavily with a loud sigh. Mr. Puffin hopped off his shoulder and landed on the table, looking around him.

"Something weird is going on." He blurted out, surprising himself. "That officer back there-"

"… Acted like he didn't even know that Mattie was missing." Magnus finished for him. Emil blinked in surprise, and nodded. Lukas sat down beside him, a soft frown on his features.

"Y-yeah." Emil blinked. "How do you-"

"They've been acting like this ever since I called you. All at once, all the Officers just… Stopped what they were doing, and walked off." Magnus ran a hand through his wildly styled hair and sighed.

"I tried calling them back, but my Far grabbed me by the arm and started scolding me for calling a false alarm…"

"_What_?" the Albino looked up sharply, his voice hoarse. Alfred and Arthur looked up as well, as did the Asian teenager. It was obvious that they had not known, Emil thought to himself. Magnus must have waited to break the news until him and Lukas had arrived.

"False _alarm_?" Alfred shakily rose to his feet. "My little brother is missing! How is that a false alarm!"

"Alfred!" the Albino stood up, his expression grave. "Let Maggs explain…" He had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as it he hadn't slept in hours, days even.

"_Shut up_!" Alfred turned on the Albino, his eyes blazing. "Just shut _UP_! You shouldn't even be here!"

"I have every right to be here!" the other teen snarled, his crimson eyes flashing. He stepped forward and grabbed Alfred by the front of his shirt, and yanked him forward so the two teens were eye-to-eye. "Mattie meant as MUCH to me as he did to you, dummkopf!"

"Get your filthy hands-"

"THE BOTH OF YOU." Arthur shoved the two teenagers apart, shocking both of them. "Lay off Gil, Alfred." The Brit growled to the American. "He does have every right to be here, as Matthew's-"

"Oh, so you're taking HIS side now!" Alfred snarled; his face set in a contorted expression of rage and hurt.

"-Lover." Arthur continued, ignoring Alfred. "Remember. If he hadn't called to tell us that Matthew was missing, we wouldn't be here right now, trying to FIND him."

Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He closed it, blinking hard. The enraged expression faded, replaced with a blank look.

"Try and be a bloody adult for once, git." Arthur growled. He then sat down, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared straight ahead. "Or a Hero, whatever you want… Stop being a buggin' baby already, and help out instead of moping around. Matthew's not gonna be found that way, dead or alive, if all you're doing is sitting around on your arse."

A shocked silence fell over the room, aside for the soft humming of the two laptops set on the table.

With a crash that made everyone in the room jump out of their skins, Alfred shoved his chair away from him with a well-placed kick, then stormed out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him with a mighty bang.

The Asian teenager made a move to go after Alfred, but Magnus held him back. "No, Kiku, let him go." He sighed. "He needs some time to cool off…" Kiku blinked, looking worried, then gave in and sat back down silently.

Gilbert stared blankly at the door for several more moments before collapsing back into his chair with a loud 'huff' of exhaled air.

"So, you were saying, Maggs?"

Magnus cleared his throat. "Yeah. Hmm… Where was I, again?" He looked sheepish.

"Your Far was scolding you about pulling a false alarm." Lukas said, his expression blank.

"Ah! Yeah, that's it…" His expression became serious again.

"Anyways… I asked my Far what the hell was he talking about. I told him about Matthew being missing, and…" He trailed off.

"… And what?" Kiku spoke up for the first time, his voice soft and Japanese-accented. "What happened after that?"

Magnus didn't answer. Emil turned and stared at the Dane, silent. What had happened that was so bad, that Magnus didn't want to talk about it?

"Magnus." Arthur said, his voice serious. His green eyes were narrowed, and a frown creased his forehead. "What is it?"

"… When I told him about Matthew…" he trailed off again.

"Get on with it." Gilbert said, his voice sharp. "What did your Vater say?"

"He said…" Magnus looked down, his eyes closed. Then, he slowly looked up, his eyes opening, hi expression grave.

"He said to me… 'Who is Matthew Williams'?"


End file.
